Naruto One Shots

Spitting Image Prequel (Gaara Sabaku Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Bev-Nap]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 4,240

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- Alcohol drinking/Drunk sex
- Soft boi virgin Gaara
- Praising/"Good Boy"
- Hickeys/Scratch Marks
- Mommy kink (you can't convince me that Gaara doesn't have a mommy kink)
- Pleasure kink
- Begging
- Oral (female receiving)
- Creampie

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     The neon lights of the bar cut through the darkness, pulling me towards it like a moth. This day has sucked, this week has sucked, this month has sucked. Plus, the promise of cheap margaritas is almost impossible to deny. I'm a sucker for a cheap alcohol-induced night.
"Welcome in! Margaritas are two hundred yen a glass tonight!" The short-haired bartender calls out, a toothy grin on her face.
"Start me off with a strawberry margarita," I order, sliding into an empty barstool at the counter. "Then slide me a lime one once it's done."
"So start your second one as soon as I'm done with your first?" She asks a laugh following her words.
"Ya, pretty much," I giggle out too, slapping my ID onto the counter before laying six hundred yen on top. "Keep the extra as a tip, love."
"Damn, already sweet talking me. One strawberry and one lime marg coming up," the bartender says, snatching up my ID and the cash. She glances at my ID, checking my age before sliding it into the tab box alongside another twenty or thirty others.
     It doesn't take long for my drinks to come. As promised, I down the first one before taking my time with the second. As I'm sipping on the lime drink, the taste of it justifying the price, a voice rings out. "Sorry ma'am, but is this seat taken?"
     I turn my head towards the voice, a shorter man with a head of shaggy red hair at the end of the sound. His hair interests me, it's a dark red instead of the normal pale-red gingers tend to be. I wonder if it's a dye job. "No, it's not taking, sunshine."
     "O...oh," the man stutters, slowly sliding into the stool next to me. "Thank you, for the seat," he mumbles, a hand running through his hair. When his hair flips up because of the movement, a tattooed red mark is exposed on his forehead, only interesting me even more.
     "Of course. No lady likes to drink alone," I answer, the buzz of my margs setting in. "No girl likes to buy her drinks either."
     The man's eyes blink slowly, exposing the black circles around his eyes. How cute, a hot ginger that's good at eyeliner. "Would... would you like me to buy you a drink? Is that what you're asking?"
     I let out a deep laugh as a smile cracks across my face. "You don't get hit on often do you?"
     Another round of slow blinking before a soft "no" peeps out.
     "Yes, I'm asking you to buy me a drink."
     The man's face scrunches, nonexistent eyebrows smashed together. The red is totally a dye job. "What would you like to drink?"
     "A mango margarita, please, sunshine."
     Mr Sunshine stumbles over his words as he orders a drink for himself and me. His eyes are wide and stuck on me as we wait for our drinks, the intenseness of his stare poking at my nerves. "So... I haven't seen you around the village before. Are you from the Leaf or just passing through?"
     "I am from the Village Hidden in the Sand."
     "Oh, that's... cool. Whatcha doing here then?"
     "I was meeting with your village's Hokage," he mutters, eyes flickering down to our drinks being set on the countertop.
     "Oh, so you're a Shinobi then?" I ask, my interest sparked even more. I'll be the first one to admit I'm a bit of a band chaser. I don't know what it is, but Shinobis just do it for me. Besides, they're the best for one-night stands. There's a million of them and they're usually too busy for anything more than a rang and bang.
     "Um... I guess so."
     "You guess so?" I ask, downing my drink quicker than I probably should. "Well, if I ask if your hair is naturally red are you going to say you guess so?" I add, shifting closer to the man.
     "I... um... yes, I'm... I'm naturally a redhead," the man stutters, his cheeks quickly growing the same shade as his hair. "And you... you're really close to my face."
     I let out a hum, slowly backing away from the shinobi. "Sorry, I'm coming off a little strong," I mutter, waving down the bartender, who goes into action starting another drink. What's that? Number four? Maybe I should slow down. Mr Shinobi is still nursing drink number one. "Not much of a drinker are you?"
     "No, I am not. I'm only here because my brother wants to 'get blasted' before his wedding," the man says, the words 'get blasted' falling out of his mouth like it left a nasty taste behind. "I am just here because he said I have to be."
     "What is it that you don't like about drinking?" I ask, trying to push the conversation forward.
     "I do not like my senses being unbeneficial. Besides, most alcohol does not taste good."
     "Well duh, you ordered a double shot of whiskey. If you want something that tastes good you need to get something fruity, like my margaritas. Want to try?" I push my untouched glass towards him, encouraging him to try something different.
     "My sister says margaritas are girly drinks."
     "So? Who cares what your sister thinks?"
     The man's eyes settle on me again, his eyes round and full of confusion. "Why are you talking to me?"
     "Because I'm a little more than buzzed and you're a little more than hot," I answer honestly, shifting closer to him. I rest a hand on his knee, resting my head against his so I can whisper in his ear. "Besides, I love the sight of a ginger on his knees."
     "You wish to have sex?" The man asks, his eyes widened again and hands fluttering up and down my arms. "You... you wish for me.... To...?"
     I let out a few giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek before I settle in my seat again. "Yes, but not until I slow down or until you catch up a bit, Sunshine."
     The Shinobi blinks a couple of times before his focus shifts to the drink I pushed toward him. He picks it up, downing it in a few gulps before setting the glass back down. "I do not like mangoes."
     I laugh again, sliding my nails over the inside of his thigh as I do so. "We could have ordered you a different flavor you know. What fruits do you like?"
     "Apples."
     "Then let's get you an apple margarita, ya?"
     "Okay," he mumbles, leaning closer as his eyes glare into mine. The closeness and intensity spook me a bit. "You are a strange person."
     "Why do you say that?"
     "People usually don't enjoy my... company."
     "You're pretty, I don't know who wouldn't enjoy your company. But enough about your looks, you got any hobbies?"
     The boy seems even more confused like he's never given his looks any thought. "Plants," he races out, eyes glancing at the apple-mixed drink that the bartender has left on the counter.
     "Oh ya? I love plants. Willow trees are my favorite though," I say, going on a ramble about the planet. The man nods along with my rant, his eyes locked on me the whole time. They're pretty, slit, and a soft opal color. Dear Lord, all I can imagine is those pretty eyes looking up at me as he sits on his knees. "What's your favorite plant, sunshine?"
     "Barrel cactus!" He races out, blinking at me on repeat again. I get the feeling the man has never talked about himself before. "I... I mean, barrel cactus," he says in a softer tone this time.
     "Ya? Why's that?"